by the time you read this it’ll all be ok

I just don’t think I’m that interesting. I don’t think what I have to say is that interesting. To hear me go blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. I mean, who… cares? James Gandolfini

(Thanks beeps and Jas for the 3 quotes 3 days nomination.) I wrote this post while my WiFi was down, so it’s not a snapshot of now.

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This motherfucking disorder… I had two really good days this week; they felt good without feeling too good. I thought foolishly, hey this might last a while, but I thought it too loud and the bastard bipolar heard me. Splat and I hit the tarmac like Chris Rock’s character’s fall from grace in ‘Dogma’, and it got worse from there (I think I then turned into Viggo Mortensen’s character in ‘The Road’). 6km on the beach helped, but only temporarily and then it all rushed in again. I’m very tired of the howling abyss inside me. I’m tired of saying don’t worry I’ll be fine when someone’s asked 85739 times for the reasons I’m so down. I’m tired of saying I’m okay really when someone begins to fret, because there’s nothing they can do. I’m tired of saying yes when someone tells me I’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, it will all be fine. It’s not fine. Why do you think you’re feeling this way? Because I’m bi-fucking-polar, that’s why. Why is a person with a broken leg’s leg sore? I’m down because my baseline is depression, because of 40 years of untreated bipolar, because trauma fucked me up as a toddler and very little has been alright since. Muggles can be tiresome sometimes; I don’t say it’ll be okay because it’s true, I say it so they’ll stop looking like rabbits in headlights.

I woke with the howling abyss at full power and was sitting on the couch weeping when douchebag neighbour called from outside hello I’ve just come to drop something off. The something was a bird that flew into her glass door and got stunned. I told her to take it to a woman who I knew would actively enjoy clucking over it until it recovered. Douchebag had already gone into rabbit in headlights mode; it’s what she does. She asked me what was wrong, I said bipolar is wrong. She said sweetie, please… and began to cry. I said, sweetie what? And what’s wrong? Sweetie please means stop doing that. I told her I hated being alive one day and she left in a tizz saying, I can’t hear this. Her daughter had asked her to give them and her ex husband a life to her child’s birthday party, which was held elsewhere (another event I couldn’t go to because douchebag’s man is allergic to lesbians). Douchebag has major issues with her ex (who by the way, broke his hip about a month ago) and so she had a cadenza about it. Naturally enough, she then had a fight with her daughter. It’s just everything, she said, through the tears and then she asked the traditional, obligatory, time honoured and very fucking annoying question that well-intentioned people ask in times of crisis, are you eating? Then she left saying it’s nothing compared with what you’re going through. I have to sort the stuff I need her for so that I don’t need her for them, because fuck this with one of morgue’s sporks marinated in syphilis. Twice.

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Normal and prn meds down my throat, I went to sleep and had one of those psychological aerobics dreams. To cut a long and very tedious retelling short, everybody in it shrugged off my pleas, and I yelled, I just want someone to stand next to me, that’s all! Also in the dream, I was frustrated at not being able to find words better than shoulder to shoulder to clarify what I wanted. I woke to discover that the WiFi being down all week due to the weather granted me an extension all of my very own in the form of a fault in my system. The guy who can sort it is 300km away for the weekend. No consolation online then. The friend whose mercy I’d usually fling myself upon has guests for the weekend and I can’t cope with asking friends who live further away if they can help, even though they would. I can’t cope with going to the local shop to buy three tons of chocolate either. I did manage to wash up, which is a miracle, I don’t even want to think about how long the kitchen sink-o-meter has been pointing at institutionalise her right now.

Of course bipolar depression kicks my arse towards grieving my mother and I still grieve hard anyway. Depression takes the downhill run to melancholic depression, which as you know, is emotional quicksand. Quicksad? Fuck puns, but at least they’re a sign that I haven’t been sucked right to the bottom of it all. The absolute nadir is when my sense of humour escapes me completely; it’s a long way down and I either blog research posts or not at all then. Thank fuck I can take another prn or two now; I’ll go and read and try to sleep. The kitchen sink is empty, which means the kitchen sink-o-meter is at full and as long as we don’t take a reading from the laundry-o-meter, I’m showing good results.

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Published by

blahpolar

battlescarred, bright, bewildered, bent, blue & bipolar

45 thoughts on “by the time you read this it’ll all be ok”

  1. Can Dragon please toast me even though I’m commenting? I’m FREEZING!!! 50°, raining & windy,,, you’re right, FUCKIN’ bipolar & FUCKIN’ stupid dumb ass people!!! SyphilIs coated sporks is genius!!! <3

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Sending you the sort of silent understanding you need. I’ll listen if you want to talk. Imagine that I am sitting there in the lounge, reading, keeping you company if talk is not what you need. It is, after a week of Indian Summer weather, suddenly 1C and snowing lightly. Just for today they say. So I am staying put. You know where to find me.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks lots my friend, I’m out of that abyss and merely floating in the rainwater at the bottom of the big hole of kimberley now. I was remembering use in the lounge while I read your review, a happy memory. I suppose you’ll need more snow to make a snowmoffie.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I am not ready for snow. Flowers have been blooming like crazy here after being pummeled by hail in August. Right now they say it could be +25c again by next weekend.

        Glad to hear you have surfaced. :)

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Chris Rock’s character in “Dogma” is one of my favorites! Great visual btw. I hate it when your not on here to read. Forgive the muggles, they know not what they do, but keep educating the rest of us so we will know what to do. ;) You’ve been missed! G-uno

    Liked by 1 person

  4. At what point did you crawl into my head? If you read what I wrote last night you’ll understand. I just felt a lump in my throat and a knot in my stomach it was so identifiable. Sorry, had to get the dictionary. Plus anything that starts with- by the time you read this- scares the crap out of me! But I understand. I’ve had several manic days in a row now and I wish I never had them. They remind me of what happens after the manic episode, I fall. I fall down a deep dark hole with no way out. This is my first time out in almost a year. It’s isn’t right for my brain to give me these few almost normal days only to push me back down to where I was again. I try to explain it to my dad and sister and they don’t want to hear it. They tell me I have control over my own body and I should be better. I love reading your blog. You have never judged me or made fun of me. Even others with Bipolar Disorder have. It hurts to not only be rejected by society but also by people who supposedly have what you have and are supposed to understand. I hope you know you matter.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Nobody has much control over their brains ffs… So we’ve definitely been mirroring each other this week – poor us. And fuckit. Idk why I would judge or make fun of you? It’s never crossed my mind to. Fuck that too. And thank you very much indeed for reminding me that I’m not a freak. I always assume that bipolar people who don’t get it are cyclothymic or have mild bipolar and lots of stable periods. And tbh I’m quite snotty about it. Okay now I’m going to visit your blog and look in the mirror there.

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Hrm wait and wtf lol, I clicked your name, wasn’t following your blog and that confused me because I’m damn sure I’m following you, then I noticed the last post there is from March. Pls give me your url?

      Like

  5. Well, a lot of people and i really like to hear you talk, and go blah blah blah. I must watch the Sopranos, incidentally, it seems silly that I haven’t yet.
    If those two days of pretty good happened at all, I’d say that’s a yay. After all, this is what you know will always come back, those were the surprise.
    I missed your blahs, just keep checking in.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I enjoy the terms sink-o-meter and laundry-o-meter. Very succinctly descriptive. And since there is a weather theme in the comments, I will say that I turned my heat on October 1st (Wisconsin, USA) but then had to turn it back off the next day. That will probably be going on for some time.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. The kitchen sink gets full when we are too depressed to clean them or too apathetic to clean those dishes.

    Clean sink is not necessarily indicative of one thing or another…..only lack of mania.

    No eating also means no dishes…so empty sink can mean a worse depression than full sink.

    I can just stand next to you. Although maybr we could order a pizza and take little bites of it together…..or do you have pizza delivery there?

    Then we could keep that frigin sink clear so people would not bother us complaining about it…..oh but then they would bother us about not eating……

    Crap it is all a trap….

    So then I guess we might as well feel what we feel and be ourselves….people will say the wrongs things anyway….they will complain anyway..they will bug us anyway for being in bed at 5 pm…..

    But getting up will lead to them complaining about something we do or say while we are out of bed…..or about something we dont say or say wrong..

    See there is no answer but to take care of yourself the best way you know how….
    Which is blogging and then waiting for those one or two real people to contact you…..
    Like the one that will babble on and on incessantly so that you know that no one hacked into her WordPress account and is posing as her Because….

    No one else can quite go on and on …in quite the same way….that you would recognize because she is your friend 💖💕

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Oh, fuck the dishes and laundry o-metres. And fuck the pat replies. Honey, I don’t ever want to hear that from you when I tell you I’m concerned about you. Never. From now on if you tell me you’re fine or you’ll be fine I’m gonna call you out on the carpet for it.

    I wish your baseline mood was a bit higher. There’s a true statement. I know you’ll be up and down just like the rest of us yo-yo’s. But I wish your default was a little happier. I understand it isn’t, and if I wasn’t still riding this latest long manic wave I’d say depression is my baseline, as well (and please, dear, forgive any recent rainbow farting I’ve done).

    As for the muggles, they have no hope of understanding life on Pluto. We are OUT THERE to them, and no, they have neither the patience nor the self-awareness to deal with us. I say self-awareness because that IS what’s lacking. They’ll claim we bring them down when we’re depressed. Really? After all that shit they spout at us that WE are the masters of our own emotions? They want to turn that right on its head and say we’re bringing them down? Shove THAT in their faces! Fucking hypocrites. Just one more way to blame, blame, blame and NOT take responsibility themselves. I refuse to accept that on behalf of myself and every other bipolar person on this fucking planet. Uh-uh. Screw that. And don’t fucking compare your situational – excuse me – MILD situational depression to that all encompassing can’t escape shit bipolar sends our way. I don’t have enough curse words for THAT behavior. Can we say narcissism?

    Grrrr! I’m ready to come down there and tear a few throats out for you.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Beeps, I love your entire comment. If you run for president of the world (to work on manic days only) I’ll vote for you. Vote beeps – she keeps the beats. Kindly sail the Netherlands a bit closer to ZA so you can whoosh over and rip throats. As for your muggle rant – epic perfection right there.

      Liked by 1 person

  9. I think Douchebag and my mother may be one in the same. It’s kinda sad that we all “get” this, and those who should, just don’t. I hate to be pessimistic (but it’s what I do best), but I don’t think anybody who doesn’t deal with this will ever truly “get” it. And please do continue with the puns. As long as your punny, you’re still breathing…okay that was cheesy and we don’t even know each other yet.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. So glad you’re back online and I’m sorry you’ve been having such a shitty time. Your neighbour sounds like the universe revolves around her and what she wants. There is no reaction more frustrating than someone seeing where you’re at, someone who knows full well that you have bipolar and that this is how you be sometimes, who asks what’s wrong as if they have no idea that this happens to you, then when you tell them it’s bipolar depression (or the reasons that’s made awful) they just dismiss it and pretend you’re fine and act like nothing’s wrong because it’s “only bipolar again” and “you should be used to it by now.”
    Nobends.
    This week I found out that a huge part of my agitation is from drowning in crap in my house. When it’s tidy, I don’t hate myself or feel like a useless lump quite so much. I had a meltdown where I discovered that if the dishwasher breaks, my mood drops like a stone.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Oh, so much I like about this post. Your terminology is awesome. I like quicksad, how appropriate a description.
    And syphilis marinated sporks…Oh, yes, let the McMuggles have that Not So Happy Meal so I can mock them with, “What’s wrong? Oh, your brain is being eaten by syphilis? But why does that make you upset????”

    Liked by 1 person

  12. I spend a lot of time answering the question “Are you ok?” with “No, but yes” meaning No, but there’s not a damn thing you can do and I don’t need to be institutionalized yet. .

    I love Dogma. I may have to go rewatch that now that you’ve brought it up. Chris Rock is hysterical in that.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Well, if you morphed into the Viggo Mortenson of The Road, I really really really hope you didn’t have to go down into that basement. — shudder — scans skies anxiously for mushroom clouds —

    Liked by 1 person

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